


On the 13th Floor

by tangiblewhimsy



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangiblewhimsy/pseuds/tangiblewhimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When journalist Sho needs a last second edit for an article he drops his document on to the company intranet hoping for help. A mysterious Ninomiya answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the 13th Floor

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2010 March fanfiction contest at the [shoneenclub](http://shoneenclub.livejournal.com).

The first time they had contact was through internal memorandum.

Sho had been having difficulty finding a person to do a last minute edit of his article on the debate over the _The Cove_ 's Academy Award. All he had been looking for was a perfunctory grammar and fact check, nothing very time consuming. When, after an hour had passed, he received an email from parts in the building unknown asking if he was sure he wanted to submit this to the following issue of _Beat_ (the Kitagawa Group's primary entertainment publication), Sho couldn't help but be annoyed.

His response was perhaps clipped, feeling the pressure of a deadline looming overhead. Sho responded to this random Ninomiya saying that yes, he was sure, would the man please just do him the courtesy of editing the piece. He felt bad for losing his temper with some random guy who was hanging around so long after hours, but he just needed the thing _done_.

When the next email from Ninomiya arrived, however, Sho's guilt evaporated. Rather than a simple edit, the margins of his paper were filled with snide criticisms and sarcastic comments. A number of grammatical and spelling errors were fixed, yes, and his facts ended up being just fine, true. But the bulk of the email consisted of a chastisement for _bias_.

Sitting at his computer, Sho felt his jaw clench. 

His cubicle filled with the chatter of slamming keys as his fingers flew across the keyboard. Who the hell was this guy to judge? And of all things to call him on, _bias_? _Really?_

Sho knew he was being unprofessional. It wasn't mature to sit at a computer constantly refreshing his inbox in attempts to capture the newest response and debate the merits of his arguments vigorously. But it was a principle issue! He had been hired for his job because of his talent for objectivity, surely this person was reading things into his article that simply weren't there.

Their debate raged for more than an hour, over the course of which Sho flat out scrapped entire paragraphs in favor of frustration-driven rewrites. No matter how things were changed, the mysterious Ninomiya found something to take issue with. Spying the time and having a minor coronary, Sho figured it a lost cause. He emailed out his article with minutes to spare before his deadline, trying to console himself with the fact that whoever Ninomiya was he was _obviously_ one of those people who just could not be pleased.

At the next staff meeting, editor-in-chief Matsumoto pulled Sho aside. Rather than being berated for inferior and choppy work (Sho hadn't gotten a lot of time to go over transitions during his rewrites), the steely perfectionist gave Sho a pat on the shoulder. He congratulated him on a superior article, citing the fact that Sho's voice and opinions came off far stronger than they ever had before. An exemplary piece.

Dumbfounded, Sho could do nothing but nod his head in thanks, accepting his next assignment in a bit of a daze.

A night and a day of writing later, Sho found himself staring at a half-composed email, his new article attached. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed his pride and clicked 'send', hoping that Ninomiya was still in whatever corner of the building he worked in.

 

It turned out that Nino (as Sho eventually learned Ninomiya preferred being called) worked in payroll. He was actually incredibly efficient at his job, normally getting his books in order before most people went home for the evening. The rest of his day tended to be spent surfing the internet and playing games behind his desk because the office had a faster connection than he did at home.

_You're just a well of ethical standards, I see._ Sho would say to him at times.

_You're just jealous you weren't smart enough to think of it first._ Would always be Nino's reply, and Sho would grin at his screen and shake his head.

Nino became Sho's _de facto_ editor over the span of a few weeks. Sho still found himself constantly railing against the accountant on matters of content, but it pushed him to do the best work he'd ever managed. He found himself trying new things in his writing, testing the waters to see if there was anything that Nino didn't find fault with. As weeks turned into months and issue after issue his work improved Sho was given larger stories to focus on. Things with more international focus, fewer fluff pieces.

Even with his advances at work, however, Nino still teased.

_When are you going to do movie reviews again?_ his email said before he'd even finished with Sho's article on the downtrend in the price of orange juice concentrate. _You used to save me the money of seeing things myself._

Chuckling into his keyboard, Sho answered him with: _Now I'm saving you money on frozen orange juice._

_Except I don't drink orange juice,_ Nino's reply came a minute later, _so really, you're not saving me anything._

Sho stared at the computer, hands poised over his keyboard. It had been nearly four months since the first article Nino had edited. Four months since they'd gradually progressed from stressful fights over quality to playful jabs at each other. They were technically colleagues, but at the same time... 

Sho had never met Nino before. He'd never seen the man's face or heard his voice—at least not to the best of his knowledge. And yet Sho considered Nino to be a close friend. They talked almost every single night, even if Sho didn't have a paper for the man to correct. He'd even taken to staying later in the evenings just to exchange a few more emails.

Over all of that time, Sho had thought about trying to meet Nino in person. See if he was as fun in real life as he seemed to be online. There hadn't ever been an opportunity to ask, though.

Taking a deep breath, Sho tried not to analyze the fact that he was unduly nervous about asking a coworker out for drinks.

_How about beer? Do you drink beer?_

There was a longer pause than before and Sho tapped a mindless rhythm on his desk as he waited. He knew Nino's replying habits, the average amount of time it took him to respond to a conversational prod. But he was editing something, Sho tried to remind himself, it would be a second or two.

After the longest 3 minutes imaginable Nino's response popped into his inbox:

_Not on deadline nights._

He tried his best to pretend he wasn't disappointed.

 

Sho didn't try to bring up meeting again.

Part of it was because he had been getting busier. After another month of “increasingly superior work” Sho was frequently awarded interviews that required travel, leaving him either dead tired or not even in town. But the timing of these assignments was simply convenient, a legitimate excuse to cover for the fact that Sho was really beginning to _like_ Nino.

Which was just ridiculous. He kept telling himself that he was being completely insane. How could you like someone you'd never met? Obviously he was just growing into a good friendship with Nino. Nothing more than a strong work relationship with someone who he got along well with. Nothing more. These reminders became his litany, even as Sho would open his laptop late at night, on weekends, and on holidays to check his email just one more time.

The more they talked the less it became about work. Sho told Nino about his family and where he went to school. He told Nino about how he had once tried to start an herb garden to have a hobby and how everything had wilted and died. He told him about his tastes in music and in books, even confessing to watching Sailor Moon cartoons with his little sister when he used to babysit her (and maybe how he actually enjoyed them).

In turn Nino told him about his work and his friends. He told Sho about his family and his dog, about his game obsessions and how he did not intend to work in an office for the rest of his life. He told Sho about how when he was younger he wanted to study abroad, about his interest in films.

Sho had a fun time teasing Nino about his love of low-budget independent movies and sappy documentaries that served no purpose other than to simply be there. Nino constantly poked at Sho's inability to spell “embarrassing” correctly, despite it being such a frequently applicable term.

Sho learned that Nino was, underneath his biting sarcasm and bold exterior, very soft and caring. He read emails that recounted tales where Nino would go out with his friends Ohno from HR and Aiba from marketing whenever they would go drinking just to make sure they got home okay. The times that Nino had helped make dinner when he was growing up because his mother was too tired from working to support their family, or how he would do his sister's laundry while she worked and went to school.

And that one time Nino'd answered an email from a desperate journalist on the 13th floor looking for a last-minute proofread.

_Do you ever think it's strange that we talk so much and have never seen each others' faces?_ Sho asked after countless more weeks of near daily exchanges.

_Who said I've never seen your face?_ Nino teased.

Sho had to frown, wondering if maybe Nino was trying to trick him. (Another characteristic Sho had picked up on over the months.)

_How could you know what I look like if we've never met?_

_I made Ohchan show me your personnel file._ Nino replied with a surprising lack of hesitation, considering the admission could get both he and his friend Ohno in serious trouble. Sho supposed Nino had confidence that he wouldn't tell anyone.

Really, though, the blatant invasion of his personal information bothered Sho far less than the fact he couldn't remember if he had looked good for his personnel photo. Which was ludicrous, a part of his mind realized, but it didn't stop him from trying to remember whether or not he had that horrible bowl-cut back when he'd been hired. 

 

Nino was going on a trip for New Year's. He was going on a trip with friends and Sho was jealous. Not just jealous but _bitterly_ jealous.

He tried not to be. Nino worked hard and deserved his vacation time, deserved time to relax and enjoy all of that money he tended to horde. Sho had developed a habit of being concerned by how much time Nino tended to spend at the office, how much stress he took on himself. As a friend all Sho wanted was for Nino to be healthy and happy.

As someone who more and more often wanted to be more to Nino than just a couple of emails a day, however, Sho wanted to be going on that trip. He wanted to go so badly he felt himself sulking in front of his computer as his inbox remained devoid of new contact.

“Sakurai-kun?” Sho clicked on a word document that was open in his toolbar to hide his inbox. He wasn't sure _why_ he was hiding it, not like there was anything _there_. Hmph.

“Yes?” He turned in his chair.

Matsumoto Jun was his boss and team member, but also a good friend. They'd entered the company around the same time, but while Sho had a better skill for eloquence Jun had shown an affinity for knowing what people wanted to read. He was exceedingly young to be an executive editor for a major publication, but that fact only served to speak to the man's talent and passion for his job.

What most were unable to discover about Jun due to his reserved nature, however, was that he was also an observant and caring friend to have. Jun would normally let things sort themselves out, but he was the type of man that was always hanging back, just in case.

Jun dropped himself down in the spare chair of Sho's cubicle, crossing his legs elegantly and resting his elbow on the corner of Sho's desk. The man could have just as easily been on the cover of the publication he edited, Sho mused (not for the first time).

“Did you get dumped or something?” Jun asked, fixing Sho with an analytical stare.

Sho ducked his head, leaning back in his chair. “I'd have to be dating someone to get dumped,” he tried to joke, waving off the question with a smile. Really, he had a point though. It's not as if Nino had any sort of obligation to him. They _weren't_ dating.

Jun seemed unimpressed with the feinted nonchalance. “Then why do you look so sour?”

Sho didn't really have an answer for that. He'd told Jun a little bit about Nino as the months had passed. He hadn't really had any choice, considering the seemingly random improvement in his work over the past eight months. Couldn't have the editor-in-chief suspecting him of plagiarism, could he?

But Sho hadn't let on exactly how often he and Nino spoke. How he had looked at the building directory to find out that payroll was on the fifth floor and how he had considered taking a long lunch break to wander through the building to find Nino. How the only reason he hadn't done such a thing was because he didn't want to find that they really were nothing but friends.

As Sho continued to say nothing, Jun sighed impatiently, shaking his head.

“Come out for drinks with me tonight,” he said, not really leaving any room for refusal. “We can celebrate your nomination for the Shorenstein Prize.”

“My...what?” Sho's bubble of bitterness deflated weakly.

Grinning, Jun stood and gave Sho a pat on the shoulder on his way out.

 

The air in the bar was thick with smoke and perfume, the clink of bottles and glasses breaking through echoes of laughter through the dim lighting. Jun had done an admirable job of trying to drown Sho's misery, thankfully not trying to prod him for more information on the matter.

But Jun's stature only allowed him to imbibe so much before he was drifting in and out of coherence on the table. The nomination was flattering, but as Jun slumped against his side Sho realized that the first person he wanted to tell the news to was off somewhere with someone else having fun that had nothing to do with work. With that though, even the momentary high of being recognized by a foreign academic body for excellence in journalism waned after the third round of beers. 

His accomplishments, his advancements. None of it seemed to mean anything to Nino. And why should it! Nino was just a friendly coworker who had helped him out in a pinch. They hadn't even been drinking together before!

Sho frowned at his own thoughts. He was being unkind and he knew it. Nino didn't deserve his angry thoughts because he wouldn't even have any accomplishments if it weren't for the man at the other computer. He'd been given such incredible support and help.

A trill of laughter managed to pierce the haze of his inebriation and Sho squinted across the bar. In a booth just within line of sight three men were sitting with drinks piled high on their table, laughing and clapping loudly. They looked like they were having such a good time with one another, squished together all warm and friendly. It looked nice.

Two of the men were pressed up closely together, one appearing to be noticeably more intoxicated than the other. The one with bright cheeks and dark eyes whispered something into his friend's shoulder and the sober man laughed loudly. He threw his head back, lips hiked up to show pink gums and small teeth, a mole on his chin and a long neck as his voice carried through the bar. 

Suddenly all of the bitterness and resentment Sho had been trying not to feel at being left out of Nino's trip with his friends crashed and burned. He realized that he wasn't so much bitter as he was lonely. Jun was a great friend, but he was already dozing off his buzz. Even if he hadn't been, Sho didn't know much about him outside of work. He wondered if Jun might ever like to go on a trip some time.

The sober man's laughter abated and his head fell back to his chest. Still smiling, he looked up and across the room as Sho continued to stare.

Face going red, Sho realized he'd been caught and averted his gaze. He was suddenly very hot stuffed in his chair with Jun beside him and all of those beers in his system. His stomach churned and Sho grimaced at his remaining drink.

“I need some air,” he announced to Jun, who grunted in response. “I'll be back.”

Not bothering to see if the smiling man was still looking at him, Sho grabbed his coat and slipped it on as he fled out the front door.

The night air was deliciously chill against his hot cheeks and Sho sucked in several lungfuls of it to calm himself down. The quiet of the street was almost eerie after the bustle of the crowded bar. Rather than being depressing, however, Sho took solace in the solitude.

He was just beginning to feel like his head was being screwed on correctly when Sho heard the door behind him open. Turning, he removed himself from in front of the doorway so that whoever was coming out wouldn't have to worry about an obstacle. As he saw the man approaching him, however, Sho stopped short.

“Mind if I smoke?” Sho recognized him as the sober man from the other table.

Managing to stare for the minimum amount of time considered acceptable this time, Sho shook his head permissively. “Go ahead.”

As the man pulled out a cigarette and lit it, carefully cradling a match flame in his palms, Sho continued to watch. He was still smiling, eyes glittering in the light of the streets as his shoulders hunched against the cold and he watched Sho right back.

He looked amused and... expectant? Sho wasn't sure what he was supposed to say or do. It wasn't as if he'd invited the man outside with him. Was he supposed to talk? Leave him alone? What??

“You look constipated,” the man said, blowing a long stream of smoke into the night and still grinning.

Sho scowled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Gee, thanks,” he responded tersely. Normally he'd try to be more polite but hell if he was going to let some snide ass slide by tonight.

Seemingly unperturbed by his surliness, the stranger continued to smile, puffing on his cigarette lazily. “A glass of orange juice would probably help you with that.”

Sho's frown dropped as he stared. The man before him lifted a hand to cover his mouth, short, stubby fingers curling around the curve of his smile, muffling his laughter. Taking another drag off his cigarette, the man flicked his ash on to the road.

“I like your new haircut,” he said, answering the suspicions written across Sho's face.

To his credit, Sho managed not to punch Nino right in his smirking face. Though that may have had a lot to do with the fact that he spent the rest of his evening with his own pressed against it.


End file.
